Tainted Love
by LizAMWriter
Summary: Morgan and Prentiss discover an UnSub hiding in Morgan's hotel room. After surviving the ordeal, our two favorite BAU agents are forced to confront long-smoldering feelings…Part 2 is now up!
1. Chapter 1

Title: Tainted Love

Author: LizAMWriter

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction using characters from the world of Criminal Minds, which is owned by Jeff Davis, with rights belonging to The Mark Gordon Company in association with CBS Television Studios. I do not own Criminal Minds, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, or the other major characters in this story. This story is a work of fiction and not intended to be part of the "official canon" of the series. The plot, such as it is, is mine, as is the un-sub. I am not making any money off of writing fanfiction, this story included. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: Morgan and Prentiss discover an UnSub hiding in Morgan's hotel room. After surviving the ordeal, our two favorite BAU agents are forced to confront long-smoldering feelings.

Notes: One-shot, Prentiss POV, non-canon…No episode spoilers, not in response to any challenges. I am re-posting this because it somehow got deleted when I took down my other M-rated stories to rework them. Probably user error :-)

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Derek Morgan

Rating: M for language, adult situations, and heavy petting.

"If you don't relax, he's going to kill us both." This whispered in my ear by my friend and partner. His lips brushed my neck, and I could feel puffs of hot air from his controlled breathing. Normally, I take any chance I can get to be close to Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan. His breathy, husky voice feeds the butterflies that reside in my stomach, and fill my mind with all manner of never-gonna-happen fantasies. Today, though, I close my eyes and try to forget the man in the corner – the UnSub who called himself Teddy – waving his gun menacingly at us.

The case was brutal from the beginning. Our BAU team had been called out to Nowheresville, Montana to help the local police come up with an offender profile after a series of murders rocked the community. The signature was always the same: the offender took the left foot after the victim died. What remained of the body was horribly desecrated, and I was glad Garcia was safely ensconced in her office at Quantico. Just the photos I sent over had her trying to hide her I'm-going-to-wretch face from the all-knowing PC camera we used. After the crime scene assessments, the town interviews, and many days of pounding the pavement, we were able to provide local law enforcement with who we believed they needed to look for.

This morning, as we were standing in the hotel lobby drinking coffee and preparing a plan for the day, Hotch's cell phone chirped quickly.

"Hotchner."

"Agent Hotchner, it's Sergeant Jenkins. We caught the son of a bitch."

Hotchner signaled for the rest of the team to stop milling around and chatting. I glanced at JJ, and she gave me her characteristically reassuring smile before focusing intently on Hotch.

"Where?"

"Entering another victim's home on Magnolia Drive." The police lieutenant on the other end of the line was fairly giddy with excitement.

"You're sure it's him?" Hotch nodded, then continued, "My team can assist in the interview."

"Send over your best, Agent Hotchner. You know the way to the station."

Hotchner hung up his phone. He looked around at us, seeing the raised eyebrows and unasked questions on our faces.

"They caught someone they think fits the profile. He appeared to be entering a new victim's residence. Reid, you and JJ come with me. We're going to the station to assist in the interrogation. We'll review what we know on the way over. Prentiss, you and Morgan work with Garcia to fact check everything we hear in the interview. We'll stream the camera footage directly to the laptop. Let's not make any mistakes on this one, folks. Move!" Hotch, JJ, and Reid were already jogging toward the standard-issue SUV.

I looked over at Morgan and we headed for the stairwell. Since he and Garcia shared information better than anyone else, Hotch relegated the electronics to his room for streaming communication to and from Quantico.

"Whoa, wait up six-pack," I joked as he bounded ahead of me. He threw me a smirk over his shoulder.

"Catch me if you can," he winked and hit it double time. I smiled and upped my speed. I didn't get up at four thirty each morning to jog for 10 miles just so he could win a pissing contest. By the time he was at his fifth story room I was a second behind him. I had too much forward momentum and braced my hands against his back to stop myself from hurling forward. I laughed and put my slightly sweaty forehead against his back.

"Just can't let it go, can you Prentiss?" His chuckle rumbled through his torso and I felt it against my hands and forehead. His feel and smell were intoxicating. I'd never told anyone except Garcia about my guilty work pleasures. I love the profiling work, but the smaller pleasures did wonders for my libido in between the dark times. Being in close proximity to some very sexy men, looking but not touching, was empowering and so tantalizing. In my mind, the what-ifs created some incredibly hot fantasies, and those fantasies made nice – if empty afterwards – tension releasers any number of nights at any number of no-name hotels.

"Never let it be said that I'm not up for a challenge," I said, pulling away from his back and joining him in front of his hotel room door. He pulled out the electronic key card and inserted it in the lock. The light stayed red, instead of turning green.

"Huh. Weird," Morgan looked at the back of the card, blew on it, wiped it with his shirt, and tried again. Still red.

"Maybe they saw us in the lobby and thought we were checking out," I suggested. "I'll run down to the front desk and ask them to re-program the door. They'll give me a new card." I took the card and threw a "Be right back!" over my shoulder.

I never saw the briefly suspicious, suddenly worried look that crossed Morgan's face.

Going down five flights of stairs was considerably easier than going up, and I made good time. Approaching the front desk, I waited for the young lady behind the desk to complete her phone call.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, actually. This key card for room 5824 isn't working, and we haven't checked out yet."

The young lady gave me a puzzled look, looking as though she wanted to say something. In the end, she shrugged her shoulders and took the card from me. In another moment, I had a new key card with her assurances that it would work for the duration of our stay. I joined Morgan five minutes after that.

"Morgan, something weird just…"

"Hang on a second, princess. Hotch called and I need to get the laptop up and running," Morgan took the card from my hand and put it in the slot. He made a sound of satisfaction and pushed the door in, indicating with a hand motion that I go in ahead of him. I bobbed my head briefly in thanks and walked into the room, Morgan right behind me. He bee lined to the left side of the room and immediately started plugging information into the laptop.

I felt my cell phone vibrating in my jeans and reached for it. As I did, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. A second after that I heard the click.

That click is the unmistakable sound of the safety being taken off of a gun. Even agents who haven't been in the field for two seconds can recognize it. I tensed, because it was usually the last sound an agent would hear if the gun bearer was not immediately in their line of sight.

Morgan whirled around, and as I made eye contact with him I felt the barrel of a handgun against my head. My mouth tried to make words, but I couldn't speak. Morgan's eyes registered no recognition as he looked beyond me to my new captor.

"Very clumsy, Agent Morgan." The voice was rough, tinged with an accent crossed somewhere between Jamaica and Sweden. I tried in vain to place it. I tried in vain to run through the procedures I had been taught at Quantico. No sudden movements. Gain your captor's trust. Look him in the eyes.

I tried not to snort; that last one might be a bit of a problem in my current situation. Morgan was on it.

"You're right," he said in his most reasonable voice. "Who are you? What is it you want?" Slow and even breathing, even vocal tones, nonthreatening posture.

Morgan's eyes flicked over to me briefly and in them I read total control. I continued to breathe deliberately, evenly, and I did not move.

"You can call me Teddy." He said this inches from my ear. I clenched my jaw and tried to ignore the skin crawling sensation that tingled up my spine. I looked around the room without moving my head, trying to see if there was anything I could use to gain an advantage. When my eyes settled on Morgan's unwavering gaze, he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Don't do it.

Well, ok. Fine. Now what?

"Me and the little FBI lady are going to need a little alone time. You can either leave quietly or I can kill you. Either way, I want her" – here he pushed the barrel painfully into my skull – "and I want you gone."

I kept my eyes locked on Morgan. I saw his Adam's apple bob once, and then a vein in his neck bulged slightly. He clenched his fists. I tried to tell him with my eyes to leave. If this crazy guy thought he wanted me, and Morgan could get out safely, he needed to go. But Rule Numero Uno was that partners do not abandon partners. Even as I tried to convey to Morgan that he needed to run, I knew he wouldn't leave.

"Maybe I can help you get what you want." Morgan tried in a neutral tone.

"I don't think you can. I want _her_. I've wanted _her_ since she wore that red shirt for me."

My face betrayed my confusion. I searched my memory to try to identify what exactly he meant. I knew the red shirt, certainly. It was slightly low cut, and I always wear it with the grey slacks that hug my backside. Truthfully, I just like to catch Reid staring at my ass occasionally.

"She is a bit of a show-off, right?" Morgan still made no moves to get closer to my captor. When he shifted, I looked behind him to the laptop screen. I had hoped he made the uplink to Quantico and that Garcia could see what was happening. If she could, then the rest of the team were on their way and would break in here any minute. My heart sank when I saw that he had not had the chance to connect to Garcia. She could tap into our laptop, but she would have no reason to yet.

"Show off. No good, decent woman goes around as _she_ did. Teasing, tight clothes. Such a little _hussy_. You wanted me to find you. To punish you for being such a harlot." Now he was so close I could smell his cologne. It made me want to vomit. I willfully stayed perfectly still and did not engage him in conversation.

"Harlots are tainted, aren't they." Morgan now, not a question.

"Damn right."

"But you're not, are you? You are not tainted." I knew where Morgan was going with this. I hoped it would work.

"Damn right. Damn hussy."

"Then why defile yourself?" Morgan took a step forward now. Slow and easy, nonthreatening posture, breathing normal, neutral voice.

"I won't be defiled!"

I felt the gun barrel move just a bit from my skull. I focused on breathing.

"That's right. You can't be with her because she will defile you. You're not tainted." Morgan twisted his words and started to lead him away from what he thought he wanted.

"That's true enough," he faltered. "But she must be punished. Harlots. All of them," he hissed these things in my ear. I got another whiff of his cologne and looked at Morgan to steady myself. His eyes pleading for me to trust him. I nodded once, yes, I trust you.

"You need a substitute," Morgan spoke this slowly.

I could hear the strange smile on my captor's face in his response. "Yes." A moment of silence. Then, "You're tainted."

"Yes. I've been with her the whole time. I am with her now." Morgan's eyes locked on mine.

Suddenly, I was shoved a few feet forward into Morgan's arms. He briefly tightened them around me, and then as I got my balance we both looked at my captor.

I gasped. I had seen this man before. Teddy saw the recognition in my eyes. He wasn't an unpleasant looking man: hard features, deep blue eyes, angular chin, fit body.

"Yes, harlot. You know me. I've been everywhere you've been. I've been watching you." The man stood slightly shorter than Morgan, and not as muscular; but then again, he didn't have to have muscles. Right now he had the gun that was pointed at us.

"Ok," I found my voice and spoke for the first time. "I'm sorry. I think if you'd just let me…"

"Shut up!"

I cringed and fell silent. No sudden moves, steady breathing. Just pacify him until we can get out safely.

"Now," the captor said, grabbing a chair from the pitiful sitting area in the room. He placed the chair cattycorner to the bed. "Here are the rules. You," he pointed at Morgan with the gun, "will teach the harlot a lesson for me."

Beside me I heard Morgan take a deep breath. This was most definitely not in my plan.

"And you, hussy, will do whatever I say. You'll do whatever he wants. You'll take your punishment."

"Put the gun's safety back on. Getting killed is not in this deal, right? The tainted have to live with their punishment, right?" Morgan's voice betrayed no emotion.

"You catch on quick. Make it good." He said no more, waiting in his seat expectantly. After a few minutes, he raised his eyebrows and gestured with the gun for us to get on with it.

I slowly turned to Morgan. He did not hesitate in looking me in the eye. Every inch of him screamed tension, but his eyes were gentle and reminded me to trust him. I stood still, and flinched when he touched my arm. He moved in very close to me and I kept my eyes on his collarbone. Taking a deep breath, I inhaled his scent. He moved to kiss my cheek in a gentle gesture. My training had not prepared me for this. Where the hell was Garcia?

His voice brought me out of my thoughts. "If you don't relax, he's going to kill us both."

I looked up at him, searching his eyes for the familiar man I knew. I ducked my head and leaned into his chest. He put his hands on both sides of my face and lifted it gently so that we were once again looking into one another's eyes. He leaned in to me, and gently, so gently, pressed his lips to mine.

I closed my eyes and my hands grabbed his muscular forearms. I had thought about his kiss during so many lonely nights, and was deeply ashamed that I couldn't control those feelings now. Just as I was about to open my eyes, I felt his lips brush mine again, this time no more insistent than the last. The third time he kissed me, he whispered against my mouth, "I'll take care of you, Emily. It'll be ok. Just try to relax."

In answer, I pressed my lips more firmly against his. My hands gripped his shirt in fistfuls, as his hands left my face, one sliding around my neck and the other down my back. I didn't know what to think, but I was aware of three things: Morgan's maleness, my quickly moistening sex, and the captor's gun. Then, Morgan didn't allow me to think anymore. I kept expecting each kiss to be as the last three had been. Show kissing, for our captor. But then I felt Morgan's tongue slide along my bottom lip. I inhaled sharply and he deepened the kiss. His hands and arms were strong, holding me to him, and his tongue plunged my mouth, erotically promising even in this situation.

I broke the kiss for air, but he didn't allow me to move far from him. I felt more than heard his words.

"Emily, I'm sorry. I had to know...had to taste you."

"Oh my gosh," I whispered against him. I licked my lips and felt my knees buckle. Morgan quickly tightened his arms around me, and I braced myself against his shoulders. I didn't try to mask the desire on my face when I looked up at him. He growled and half-carried me over to the bed. The minute we sat down I heard a snicker from the captor's corner and tensed.

"No, don't do that Emily," Morgan cupped my face and I looked at him. "You're safe with me. Forget him. I'll keep looking for something I can use, but you have to relax, please."

I nodded, and rested my hands against his chest. Closing my eyes, I could feel his elevated heart rhythm. It matched my own. I wondered if his pulse was up because of the danger or because of me. Despite the man with the gun, I wanted Derek Morgan. And with every moment, every new touch, I wanted him more. His eyes were steady, looking at me in a way conveying an apology and desire at the same time. I had no idea what my own gaze gave away, except that I kept looking at the dark column of his throat, all the while wondering what he tasted like there. I licked my lips, and his eyes darkened.

Then, our way out presented itself.

My phone vibrated in my jeans pocket. I resisted the urge to get it, widening my eyes a little. I knew we had to play this carefully. I tried to think of a way I could get to the keypad. I knew if the team realized something was wrong, they would be the rescue cavalry.

Morgan noticed the vibrating phone, too. He chewed on his inner cheek for a second, then seemed to make a decision. He slid his hand around my neck and pulled me into him for a harsh kiss. His tongue coaxed my mouth open and I willingly allowed him entrance. My own tongue found the roof of his mouth and I instinctively moved closer to him to feel more of him. We were still sitting on the edge of the bed, only now I was almost in his lap. Our captor could see the left side of my body, and the right side of Morgan's.

"Trust me, Em," he whispered against my temple. I nodded once, but my mind was running at a thousand miles an hour.

Then, I felt Morgan's other hand circle around to my right hip. He was back to kissing me.

My cell phone was in my right pocket. I tried to focus on helping him get to my phone, but his other hand slid down the front of my blouse. He cupped my left breast and I involuntarily moaned and pushed myself into his hand. His tongue flicked mine in response, and I felt heady with desire. All too soon he pushed me slightly away.

His stare conveyed pure lust, and I shivered and lost my breath.

"No, you don't, hussy," he said with a disgust he didn't appear to have felt. "I'm in control here. You can't seduce me like all those other guys."

I struggled to understand what was happening even as his phantom kiss stayed on my lips. "What do you want then?" I managed to stammer breathlessly.

An evil, non-Derek smile. Then, "I want you writhing beneath me."

My mouth went dry, and any assistance I was hoping to provide him went the way of coherent thought. I had only heard those words in my dreams, and I thought it ironic that the day I finally heard them for real, it was in the middle of a nightmare.

His hands were suddenly at the center of my blouse, and as he yanked it open, buttons flew across the room. I didn't, couldn't meet Derek's eyes as he took in my form. As I searched for somewhere, anywhere to look, I became aware of two things: my cell phone was no longer in my pocket, and Teddy had moved closer, his back towards the door of the hotel room. I pulled the remains of my shirt closed and crossed my hands over my chest. I brought my focus back to my breathing, but I now saw through teary eyes.

The object is to get out of this alive, I told myself. Just stall a little bit longer.

"Stay back, Teddy," Morgan turned to face him now. Hands in plain view, neutral voice.

"Not when we're getting down to business. I think I'll take it from here," as he moved toward me, I examined my options, and decided that a kick to his groin would be the most painful and most likely to get his attention under the circumstances.

It turned out that this would be completely unnecessary. Seconds later I heard the door burst open and heard Rossi's coldly calm voice.

"Drop the gun and move away from the agents."

Teddy quickly dropped the weapon and raised his hands in the air. I stood up and took Morgan's cuffs from his belt. "Put your hands behind your back, and if you so much as utter a syllable I swear you will never see your day in court."

Morgan's eyes were wide and never left my face as I roughly cuffed Teddy, eventually handing him off to a contingent of police officers who were suddenly invading the room. I watched two young officers take him away, and a split second after they walked out of the hotel room, I saw JJ's worried face peek around the corner. She walked over to me quickly, and shook her head as she took in my sorry state. I sighed with relief, and allowed myself to be pulled into her strong embrace. I pulled back after a few seconds and gave Hotch my attention.

"Are you both ok?" Hotchner asked, devoid of condemnation, although his eyes studied both Morgan and me with a practiced gaze.

"We're fine. He was waiting for us. Prentiss was his next target. The key card didn't work when we first tried to get into the room. He must have told the front desk he was with us and they 'replaced' his key." Morgan delivered the explanation succinctly and with no emotion. I nodded my agreement, and hoped he wouldn't ask about my torn shirt.

Hotch nodded. "Fine, I'll expect a full account of the events that transpired here in standard report format when we return to Quantico."

I let out a breath. At least I wouldn't have to recount this nightmare in front of my friends. I looked over at Morgan, and he stared back, his dark eyes trying to communicate a message I was too frazzled to understand. Then I felt Rossi's hand on my shoulder; I turned to him.

"You ok, cara mia?"

I smiled at his affectionate term as I pulled my shirt tightly closed and crossed my arms, forcing confidence into my voice. "I'm fine. Just need a few minutes to change and we can finish with the local police."

Once back in the security of my room, after Rossi had swept it just to be safe, I sat down and tried to sort through the complicated emotions flooding my heart. Morgan is one of my best friends, and undoubtedly someone to be counted upon should one find oneself in a hostage situation. But Morgan kissed me. Morgan put his hands on me. Sure, it was because we were being held at gunpoint, but the gentle searching way his tongue met mine could not have been purely for show…could it?

I started at the two soft knocks on my hotel room door. What if it was Morgan on the other side of the door? How could I face him? I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders.

"I wanted to make sure you were ok," JJ's hesitant smile met me on the other side of the door.

I sighed in relief and opened the door wider for JJ's entrance. "I'm ok. How is Morgan?" I hoped that came out as nonchalantly as I'd wanted it to.

If JJ thought anything of my fishing expedition, she didn't say it. "He's ok; just packing up and talking to Garcia. But I'm really here because I'm worried about you. I saw your shirt. What the hell happened in that room?"

I opened my mouth but no words came out. Morgan's kisses were too fresh on my still-bruised lips, and I must have touched them without thinking about it because JJ sucked in a deep breath. I looked in her wide eyes.

"Emily, did that man…hurt you?" she sat down on the bed as if she were preparing to hear something she didn't want to hear.

"No, no. I mean, it wasn't for lack of trying but Morgan was able to distract him long enough for you to get here." I wanted desperately to leave my explanation there. But I know JJ, and so the inevitable followed.

"How did Morgan distract the UnSub? What does that have to do with your shirt?"

"Teddy planned to hurt me, alright? Morgan convinced him he didn't want to…that…Morgan would take his place."

JJ slowly nodded as understanding dawned in her eyes. "I see. How do you feel about that now?"

"Confused," I blurted out before I thought better of it. JJ made a sympathetic noise. I leaned my head against her shoulder, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at my very unprofessional confession.

Suddenly the door swung open and we both looked toward it. Hotch stood there, taking us in and then averted his eyes.

"Wheels up in 15," he stated and then gave a curt nod before closing the hotel door. I stood up and grabbed my suitcase.

"I'll help you pack." JJ was already in the closet grabbing the two blouses and jacket I had hanging up. I went into the small bathroom and packed up my toiletry bag; I thought about nothing other than getting sleep on the plane.

I could hear Reid's soft laughter and JJ's garbled string of unhappy words as she lost another game of Chess to him. Hotch was in the plane's kitchenette willing the coffee to brew faster as Dave talked in quiet tones to him from outside the small area. Morgan, the reason I hadn't dozed for that nap I coveted, was on the phone with Garcia. I willed myself to relax as I remembered how that deep voice reverberated through my body mere hours ago. I readjusted myself and attempted to put the seat back further; I'd never been good at sleeping in a sitting position.

"Emily, can we talk?" Morgan's soft voice in my ear. I jumped and then turned red; how did I not feel him sit down next to me?

"Yes, sure. What's up?" Ok, my nonchalant tone needed some practice: my voice sounded tense even to my own mind.

"No, not here. I want to talk about what happened this morning, but I want us to be free to speak. Or to do other things…" My eyes widened as Morgan intertwined my fingers with his. I couldn't breathe. He caressed my hand with his thumb. His eyes were gentle, but lurking somewhere beyond that was the same desire and urgency I'd felt in his kisses. I could only nod and continue to watch his face, which somehow became more expressive than I remembered it being.

Then he was gone and he took his fingers with him. I took a long drink from my water bottle and gave up on sleep, staring out the window instead.

I have a post-case routine I typically enjoy to wind down, and when I got home 8 hours later, I made every attempt to let go of the case and transition from Agent Prentiss to Emily. I spent 20 minutes cuddling Sergio, unpacked my dirty clothes, restocked my toiletry bag, put some fresh clothes in the go-bag, and then set it by the door. If I have to fire my service weapon, I clean it thoroughly at this point; however, I did not have to for this case. So, I just double-checked the safety was on and the magazines were full before putting the 9mm in the bedroom end table.

Usually, all of these steps help me come down from whatever adrenaline rush had sustained me through days of not sleeping well and skipping meals. Unfortunately, my mind wanted to think about Morgan: how he looked at me with desire, how his hands were so gentle on me, how his lips were so demanding yet so teasing. I thought about his blatant words on the plane. He did not mention our conversation when we touched down, and I wondered all of a sudden if maybe I _had_ fallen asleep and dreamed it.

Ah, my favorite part of the winding-down ritual was next: the bath. I padded into the bathroom and turned the hot water on, playing with the handle until the temperature was right. While the tub filled, I lit the rose-scented candles I paid too much for, then shrugged out of my work suit. I grabbed the terrycloth, midnight blue robe that usually hangs on the inside of the bathroom door and placed it over the generous bathtub ledge so that I would not have to go far to get warm after my bath. Finally, the tub was full and I turned the lights off just before I slowly sunk into the hot water.

I must have drifted off, because when I opened my eyes, the candles were burning lower and the water was tepid. I groaned as I sat up; my neck muscles protested the move immediately. Sergio had made his way into the bathroom, and he now yawned from his new perch on my bathrobe.

"Unacceptable," I grumbled at him. I was just about to displace him when I heard my cell phone chirp. I could see it lit up on my comforter. So, throwing a towel around myself, I quickly made for the bedroom. I hoped it wasn't Hotch with another case, but didn't bother to look at the screen before I picked up the device.

"Prentiss."

"Princess, are you ok?"

My stomach did a flip-flop at the sound of Morgan's voice. I cleared my throat and shook my head, willing the cobwebs away.

"Yes, why?"

"I've been knocking at your apartment door for ten minutes. Are you home?"

That must have been what woke me up. I darted back into the candle-lit bathroom and shooed Sergio off of my bathrobe. I took a quick look at myself in the mirror. Make-up still good. Hair in a messy up-do.

"Prentiss?" Morgan's voice on the line again.

Oh, well. Sucks to be my hair today. No time to fix it.

"I'm home, I'll be right there. Everything is fine."

When I opened the door, Morgan smiled – dare I say almost shyly? – and accepted my sweeping arm gesture as an invitation to come in. He was wearing black jeans, a black silk shirt, and a brown leather jacket. Oh, boy. Time for me to get dressed before he catches me drooling.

"Give me a few minutes to change and I'll get us a drink," I quickly moved for my bedroom, sidestepping Sergio, who had poked his head out to see who the visitor was. We don't get that many visitors. This thought made me snort in amusement, and as I turned to close the door, Morgan was right behind me. I jumped a little and then pulled the collar of my robe tighter around my neck.

"Morgan, are _you _ok?" He had not said much since he came in the apartment, his eyes just unapologetically observing and cataloguing everything around him. I briefly wondered what my apartment said about me, at least in his eyes.

The seconds of silence dragged by until finally his eyes met mine. In those deep, brown pools I saw my own desires and uncertainties mirrored, and I let my mouth fall open as if I was going to say something. But I couldn't. How to begin? _I think I'm in love with you, but I'm afraid of what changes that would mean for the team. Why are you just standing there? Oh, please, kiss me again?_

Morgan took a step forward then, his well-toned body making my bedroom seem smaller. I swallowed hard, watched his eyes follow my throat's movement before he found my face again.

"Prentiss, we need to talk about what happened in that hotel room," he held up a hand to stop me from objecting. "I crossed a line in that room, and it was probably unprofessional to say the least. I care about you, and I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

_Wait, what?_ He is standing in my bedroom _apologizing_ to me for kissing me because he thinks he made me _uncomfortable_? I felt annoyance and then anger and I contemplated all the ways I could throw him out as I stared at my carpet.

Then, Morgan's fingers were putting a gentle pressure on my chin, forcing my gaze back up to his. It struck me again how beautiful he was; muscles, sinews, and pure masculine energy fairly radiated from him. He took another step toward me, and he was so close to me I could smell the soap from his shower on his skin. Morgan's fingers trailed to my bottom lip, where his fingers ghosted across the tissue.

"Do you forgive me for my behavior before?"

His words so incongruent with the moment, I all I could think to say was, "I don't want to forgive you; I want you to do it again."

Derek's smile was brilliant and then his lips were insistent on mine and I wasn't angry anymore. He played with our kiss: light and fleeting kisses one minute, and then demanding, firm kisses the next. He pulled me impossibly closer and I let my hands wander to his arms, his chest, and his beautiful face. I tested the waters and ran my tongue along his bottom lip lightly. Morgan responded with a growl and his own tongue came out to play with mine.

_Oh my,_ could this man kiss. His hands were not idle either, running circles across my back, up my throat, cupping my face to angle his mouth deeper against mine. Then his firm hands had taken hold of my hips, and as he brought my pelvis flushed with his, I could feel _all_ of him then.

I moaned and put my head in his neck. It all felt so damn good. My fantasies had come to life. I took deep breaths and could feel his chest moving quickly as well.

"Emily, baby, I have wanted this for so long. I need you to say it; I need to hear it because this will change everything."

I looked up at him, grabbed the lapels of his jacket, and pushed it off of his shoulders. "Derek, I want you. I want this just as much as you do. I've thought about you…like this, so many times. Please don't stop."

I could not ever remember my voice sounding so breathy and small. Morgan smiled a predatory smile and gripped me firmly against him. Then, he was gently walking me back until we were standing next to my bed. The candles were still illuminating the bathroom, and the glow seemed to be everywhere in the bedroom.

Morgan's hand reached for the knot of my bathrobe, and I just knew he would erase all the harsh touches of the hotel room with reverential love and commanding passion. I closed my eyes and sent a brief thanks to the universe for what promised to be a night to cherish.

**Finis. Leave me reviews, please…I live for them!**


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Tainted Love

Author: LizAMWriter

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction using characters from the world of Criminal Minds, which is owned by Jeff Davis, with rights belonging to The Mark Gordon Company in association with CBS Television Studios. I do not own Criminal Minds, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, or the other major characters in this story. This story is a work of fiction and not intended to be part of the "official canon" of the series. The plot, such as it is, is mine. I am not making any money off of writing fanfiction, this story included. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: Morgan and Prentiss discover an UnSub hiding in Morgan's hotel room. After surviving the ordeal, our two favorite BAU agents are forced to confront long-smoldering feelings…Part 2 is now up!

Notes: Ok, so this story was supposed to be a one-shot, but I have received so many requests to do a part two that I asked my muse to visit me again and she did. Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who reviewed this story and asked for the second part. I did come to one conclusion while working on this chapter: I miss Prentiss. Also, I tried to write this second part from Morgan's POV, but it just wasn't flowing, so this is Prentiss POV again.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Derek Morgan

Rating: M for smut.

The cool air hit my skin as Morgan parted the midnight blue bathrobe I was wearing. Knowing how well he takes care of his body, I was a little worried about the imperfections of my own form, laid bare for him to see. After a few seconds of silence, I looked up.

Morgan's eyes were devouring me, as his hands still held open the robe. The looks he gave me made my heart flutter and my nether parts moisten. I swallowed thickly, and to my ears it sounded like the loudest noise in the room. I wanted to reach for him, feel him, caress him, kiss him, but when I moved my arms, he shook his head.

"Emily, let me treasure this. Let me make love to you…with you," as he said these words, Morgan moved so that he stood behind me. He grasped the robe at my shoulders, and slowly dragged the material off of my body. The robe made a soft _whoosh_ as it fell at my feet. I did not move – I couldn't move – and my whole body was on fire even though we had barely touched each other.

Certainly not in the places I needed him to touch me. Like, now.

Just when it was on the tip of my tongue to ask if I had suddenly sprouted dragon scales or something equally off-putting, Derek's hands went around my waist. He planted soft, sweet kisses across my shoulders, and then kissed that unbelievably sensitive spot behind my ears. I moaned and his tongue darted out to taste the skin there.

"Derek, please, you're killing me." My voice sounded breathy and a dark chuckle was his only answer.

He tortured my neck with his lips and tongue for several more minutes, until I would've sworn I could complete my pleasure with just that alone. My hips pressed back into Morgan's body, and he relieved some of the pressure he must have been feeling by grinding back into me. His soft groan in my ear was almost my undoing. Knowing that he was as close to losing his self-control as I was ratcheted up my desire for him a hundredfold.

"Uh huh, naughty princess. Stay still and let me play with you."

I am not typically a passive or submissive lover, at least not with the few other intimate partners I've had in my life. However, I challenge any woman to be in the presence of the raw sexual energy and control Derek Morgan exudes and not fall to her knees in awe of him. I realized in that moment, alone in my bedroom with my friend and soon to be lover, that I would do anything he asked me to do, as long as he quenched the fire that was consuming me.

All at once, Morgan seemed to sense that I needed _more_, or maybe he needed more. At any rate, I heard the rustle of clothing behind me, and turning around, faced a naked Derek torso. I reached out and ran my hand along his abs, remembering that he once challenged me to do so and I declined. _What had I been thinking?_ My fingers moved upward, over strong pectoral muscles, and then danced around a nipple. Morgan closed his eyes on another soft groan, and suddenly I wanted him to be louder. I stepped in closer to him and put my arms around him. Our chests touched for the first time and I almost sobbed with relief when his arms came around me and splayed across my back. He held me just as tightly.

"Emily, Emily, I can't get you close enough," he murmured in my ear.

My breath caught at the reverence in his tone. I couldn't think of anything to say except for the truth: "Derek, please, I need you."

He pulled back and looked at me. "You get one last chance to change your mind, princess." His face was serious, as if he were truly steeling himself for me to reject him. His hands rubbed up and down my back.

I shivered at the thought of what his hands could do to me in other places. I met his eyes. "I need you to touch me. I don't want you to stop."

Morgan cupped my face in his hands then and took my mouth in a heated kiss. His tongue swept in and out, in and out, and kept up the action until I couldn't breathe. I held onto him as I gasped for air after breaking the kiss.

Morgan swept me up in his arms and put me on the bed. His hands went to his belt buckle.

"No, please, let me," I scooted to his side of the bed and my trembling fingers unfastened the belt and released the button at the top of his pants. Feeling a little saucy, I kept steady eye contact with him as I gripped the zipper and slowly brought it down. He watched me through hooded eyes and his breath hitched as my fingers grazed his hypersensitive arousal. I gave the slacks a push and they fell down his legs; he stepped out of them gracefully and joined me on the bed.

My face must have betrayed my disappointment that he still had his boxers on.

"Lay back, princess." There was only one thing to do with that gentle command: obey it. I relaxed into the mattress, and immediately Morgan's mouth and hands were drawn to my breasts. I grabbed onto his shoulders, caressed his head and neck, all the while moaning my enthusiastic approval. Morgan was drawing out responses in me that I had forgotten I could experience.

Derek was definitely a breast guy. He went back and forth between them, suckling, kissing, tickling, caressing, kneading, and finally nipping at the tender flesh. All I could do was hang on to him and allow him to carry me to a height of arousal I did not know I was capable of. Just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, he lightened his touch to ghosting caresses and looked up at me.

"Still with me, baby?"

I nodded.

"Good. You're amazing, Em. Your body is so responsive," Derek finally put his fingers where I most needed them, "and I can't tell you how sexy that is."

I was ready for him. I lifted myself to a sitting position and gripped the waistband of Derek's boxers.

"No more waiting." Morgan did not argue the point; he was as far gone as I. Together we worked his boxers off, and I touched his length.

"I'm close, princess. Don't do that," his voice was strained and his hand reached out to grab my wrist. I smiled wryly at him and then placed myself beside his supine form on the bed.

Morgan immediately rolled on top of me, and my thighs parted to cradle his hips.

"I've thought about this so many times, Emily. You have no idea how often I fantasize about bending you over the conference room table at work."

This did surprise me, but only because it reminded me why I was attracted to him in the first place. "Oh, Derek, that is one of my favorite fantasies," I admitted, closing my eyes.

"Look at me."

I looked.

And then Derek Morgan thrust into me and I swear I combusted.

CMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCM

"How are you doing, Emily?" Derek murmured in my ear. After giving me one of the most mind-blowing sexual experiences of my life, and then repeating it just for good measure, Derek had pulled me to him and we lay spooned together in my bed.

I snuggled closer to him and he tightened his arms around me. Oh boy, could a girl ever get used to this. "I feel like I exploded in a thousand pieces. In a good way," I smiled at him over my shoulder.

The gleam in Derek's eye was unmistakably masculine satisfaction for a moment, and then he turned serious. "You haven't changed your mind about this, have you?"

"Stop trying to give me an out. This was inevitable, really. I mean, sure, I wish our first kiss didn't have to be in front of a deranged stalker/serial killer. But at the end of the day, the fact that we _had_ a first kiss – which led to this amazing evening – is what's important. You did nothing wrong. Believe me," I giggled as Morgan tickled my neck with his nose nuzzling into the flesh.

He sighed, then said, "I want more than just tonight."

I had so hoped he would say that. "Me, too. Now that I have what I've wanted for so long."

"You might get tired of me."

I yawned, and there was that sexy, throaty chuckle in my ear again. "I don't know about that, but I could take a little nap."

"Sleep, princess. We have a whole weekend to get to know each other. I want to learn about each of your thousand pieces."

I was almost overcome with how safe and cherished I felt in that moment. But, Derek was right: sleep would be good for the both of us. I snorted quietly. He had no idea just how complicated a puzzle the female heart could be.

**Ok, **_**now**_** I'm finis. This wasn't as long as the first part, but I wasn't really sure where else to go with this. Please let me know if this lived up to your expectations…reviews are cherished.**


End file.
